


Stiles's Worst Kept Secret

by lilgirlost (lil_grl_lost)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Community: trope_bingo, Father-Son Relationship, M/M, Meddling Friends, Pre-Slash, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-07 08:00:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_grl_lost/pseuds/lilgirlost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been five years since a fire destroyed their home, leaving Derek and Laura Hale orphans. After a brief stint in the military, Derek's return to Beacon Hills has caused quite a stir in their little community, especially when Stiles Stilinski's not so secret crush is concerned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stiles's Worst Kept Secret

**Author's Note:**

> During the planning stages of my trope_bingo card, I decided to try my hand at various fandoms as well as tropes I read but had never written in.
> 
> So having said that, here's my standard disclaimer: This is my first time writing Teen Wolf/Sterek fanfiction. Also, this story is unbetaed, so any and all mistakes are mine.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it and please feel free to leave any constructive feedback.

“I heard Derek Hale’s back.” Lydia stated without preamble as she slid into the vacant seat beside Allison. Normally, she wouldn’t have been caught dead eating with Scott and Stiles but if she wanted to spend lunch with Allison then small concession had to be made.

“Who’s Derek Hale?” Allison asked, generally curious rather than wanting to keep the conversation going. Obviously, his return merited some discussion if Lydia was bringing him up.

“Oh!” Stiles exclaimed, rubbing his hands gleefully together. “Where to begin!”

Rolling her eyes, Lydia pointed ignored the bench-warming lacrosse player and said, “He was the town bad boy until his family was killed in a fire a few years ago.”

“That’s terrible,” Allison murmured softly, prompting Scott to put his arm around her in comfort. “Did they ever catch who did it?”

“Nope. The arson investigator ruled it faulty wiring; though some think there was a more sinister reason behind it.” Stiles declared as though he was announcing the culprit in a classic ‘whodunit' novel.

“Only you think that,” Scott accused then punched Stiles in the shoulder for his insensitivity.

“Hey!” Stiles interjected as he rubbed the soreness out of his arm. “I saw the police report,” he pointed out, referring to the fact that he knew a lot more about the citizens of Beacon Hills than he should... which was due to his father being sheriff.

“Was he the only survivor?” Allison questioned, attempting to keep their discussion on topic before it strayed into strangeness-of-Scott-and-Stiles territory. While her relationship with Scott as well as her move to Beacon Hills was new (less than two months old), Allison had quickly learned that Scott and Stiles had an almost twin like connection.

“It happened while his sister and he were at school. The only actual survivor of the fire was their uncle Peter, who was left badly scarred.” Lydia explained before taking a bite of her salad, which was quickly losing her interesting in favor of Stiles’s fries.

“They left town shortly after that,” Scott told her.

“And he’s… they’re back?”

“Just him,” Lydia said as she stole a fry from Stiles, which earned her a half-hearted glare from the lacrosse player.

Giggling to herself, Allison winked at Scott and joked, “Oh, I wonder if he’s still a bad boy?”

“I’m sitting right here,” Scott pointed out, frowning at what he considered to be a badly timed joke from his girlfriend.

“And I see you. A girl can dream,” Allison told him and then dramatically sighed dreamily.

Lydia laughed as she stood from the table, abandoning her tray on the table. Even without asking, she knew that Stiles would take it for her. “Come on Allie, let’s leave them to their scheming.”

“You’re still my favorite, Scott,” Allison told him before leaning over to peck him on the cheek, causing Scott to blush and smile bashfully at his girlfriend. He still wasn’t used to the newest of their relationship.

“What about me?” Stiles whined mournfully; sometimes it sucked having a bestfriend, who have a girlfriend. More times than not, Stiles felt like the third wheel, even if Allison was too nice to say anything.

“I like you too, just not as much as Scott,” Allison told him with a smile. “Bye guys.”

“Bye.” “See ya.” Stiles and Scott each said as the girls left.

“So….” Scott drawled, unable to meet his friend’s eyes. “Are you going to see him?”

Glaring at Scott, Stiles rolled his eyes and asked, “Why would I go and see him?”

“You did have a crush on him when we were younger…”

“No, I had a crush on Laura. HE was just the bratty younger brother of my goddess babysitter.” The words sounded hollow in Stiles’s ears; even he didn’t buy the flimsy excuse, anymore than Scott would.

Scott laughed and clapped Stiles on the shoulder. “Keep telling yourself that man.”

“It’s true,” Stiles squawked, elbowing Scott in the side.

“Come on. We’re going to be late for economics.”

“Just what I wanted to hear,” Stiles groaned and made a face at the thought of class with Coach Finstock. Lacrosse practice with the man was bad enough; economics was pure torture. Getting up from the lunch table, Stiles grabbed his tray and Lydia's, following Scott to the trash bins, and then onto class.

***

“Dad!” Stiles yelled jerking back, stumbling away from his father, who had just entered the kitchen. With wide eyes, Stiles followed his dad’s movements, acting every bit like a skittish deer. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here…” His dad replied slowly and raised his eyebrow as he regarded his son’s suspicious behavior. “Stiles?”

“Nothing’s the matter. What could possibly be the matter?” Stiles prattled, unable to meet his dad’s eyes. The sheriff had a long history of being able to tell when his son was lying or not; even if Stiles tried his best at causing deception.

“Are you alright, son?” John asked then paused as he quickly put two and two together. “Is this about Hale being back in town?”

Stiles’s eyes widen again, even bigger than before it seemed. “Why does everyone think I care about Derek Hale?”

“Because you’ve had a crush on him since you were 12.” John pointed out, gently. Since the death of his wife, John had managed to find a lot of patience when it came to Stiles; more patience than he ever thought he could possibly have. And he worked in law enforcement.

“So, I’ve liked Lydia Martin since I was six.”

“Liked… Not half in-love. There is a difference, son,” John told him, continuing to speak in a calm voice, out of fear of spooking Stiles.

Slumping his shoulders, Stiles glanced at his dad and asked, mournfully, “Am I that obvious?”

“Transparent,” John teased, causing a brief smile to flash across Stiles’s face. “Doesn’t help that I saw your 7th grade notebooks with ‘Mr Stiles Hale’ doodled in them.”

“I’m going to my room. Please, don’t come after me, I’d rather die from utter humiliation in peace,” Stiles moaned as he tilted his head back to stare at the kitchen ceiling. ‘How is this my life?’ He thought to himself.

“So does that mean pizza for dinner?”

“Not on your life, old man,” Stiles challenged, pointing his finger at his dad... silently daring him to break the healthy diet Stiles had forced him on. “I’ll call for dinner before I expire. Get ready for lots of broccoli and celery, dad.”

“That’s good of you, son,” John said, giving Stiles a humorless laugh.

“Dad… thanks.”

“For what?” He asked with a coy smile on his face. There would be time for teasing later about his son’s choices in partners. Right now though, Stiles needed a supporter, someone in his corner as he faced the hardest part of being a teenager... of becoming an adult... being honest with himself and choosing the path his life would take.

“Nothing.”

***

“He just got out of the Marines,” Erica’s smooth voice announced over Stiles’s shoulder, causing the teenager to jump and bang his head against the open door of his locker.

Mimicking ninja moves, Stiles spun around and glared at the blonde. “Don’t do that!” He exclaimed before adopting what he hoped was an attitude of nonchalance. “And why would I care?”

“The fact that you didn’t need clarification speaks volumes” Erica replied with a raised eyebrow and a pointed look. There was no way she was buying the load of BS Stiles was selling; Erica had known him too long for that.

“Shut up and go away,” Stiles grumbled as he grabbed his books for his next class.

With a shrug, Erica told him, “Just trying to be a friend.”

“Well, go be a friend somewhere else.” Stiles snorted and closed his locker, signaling that he was finished with their conversation.

“Go and see him,” Erica called over her shoulder as she left; she had given her two cents. It was Stiles’s decision on whether or not he followed her friendly bit of advice.

“She’s right you know.”

“Oh my god!” Stiles screamed while clutching his chest. Isaac had appeared out of nowhere, much in the same way Erica managed to. “Seriously go have ninja babies somewhere else.”

“Right...” Isaac replied slowly, ignoring the Stiles’s continuing joke about how he and Erica were perfect for eachother. According to Stiles, they both had creepy abilities that really shouldn’t be inflicted on unsuspecting people. “So are you going or not?”

“I’m leaving now,” Stiles stated before stalking off down the hallway with his head held high. There was no way that he was going to let Isaac or Erica know that their ‘advice’ had made Stiles’s resolve shrink further. As he left, Isaac watched until he had rounded the corner before shaking his head at his teammate.

***

“Get out of the car, Stiles,” Scott ordered, brooking no argument. For the last week, he had been forced to endure Stiles’s whining and puppy-dog looks over Derek Hale’s return to Beacon Hill. The way his friend had been acting, you’d think he had been a jilted lover left on his wedding day.

Crossing his arms across his chest, Stiles violently shook his head and said, “No.”

“Get out.”

“Nope, non, nicht, nyeht...” Stiles rattled off, causing Scott to groan softly to himself and bang his head against the steering wheel of his mom’s car. Moments like these, made Scott question his sanity and why he continued his friendship with Stiles.

A sharp knock on the passenger window caused both teenagers to jump, their heads whipping around to peer through the clear glass at the scruffy man standing on the other side. From where he sat, Stiles could see that the last five years had been good to Derek Hale. He was no longer that skinny teenager that Stiles had not-so-secretly mooned over; time had filled him out, adding muscles and height to his boyhood crush.

“What do you want?” Derek demanded, voice muffled through the separation of glass.

Rolling down his window, Stiles leaned away from Derek and in his usual rambling way said, “Absolutely nothing. We were just leaving.”

“Stiles?”

“Nope,” Stiles replied, eyes wide as he firmly shook his head. “Not him. Must have me confused with someone else.”

“I’d know that loud mouth anywhere.” Derek smirked and gave a humorless life then leaned down, resting his crossed arms along the window sill. “If you’re Stiles then that makes you Scott.”

“Hey, Derek,” Scott said, followed by a short flick of his wrist, which may or may not have been an aborted wave. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” Derek agreed before refocusing his attention on Stiles, who had slumped further in his seat--failing miserably at hiding from Derek’s piercing stare. “So answer the question.”

“What was the question again?” Stiles asked weakly.

“He,” Scott began while pointing at Stiles, as though there needed to be clarification as to who they were referring to, “was getting out of the car.”

“Why?” Derek countered, confused by the turn of events; he had been back in town barely a week and a half and the only people, who had come out to the property were the guys delivering his lumber. And they had little choice if they wanted to be paid.

Scott sighed softly and motioned for Derek to step back, so he could open the car door. Once open, Scott pushed Stiles on out the car and slammed the door closed. “He’ll explain,” he calmly stated before throwing the car into reverse and pulling away.

“So...” Derek drawled with both eyebrows raised.

“So...” Stiles repeated, sticking both hands into his jacket’s pockets, as he rocked back and forth on his heels nervously. “How’s the Marines?”

“Finished,” Derek muttered while continuing to give Stiles an expression of out-and-out confusion; although secretly he wondered if this had anything to do with a certain notebook he had seen as a teenager. “Why are you here?”

“You know what... nevermind, this was a stupid idea,” Stiles muttered, throwing up his hands up. He should have never gotten into the car with Scott; next time, he’d think twice about it.

“What was a stupid idea?” Derek asked curiously. Even as a tween, Stiles Stilinski had always intrigued Derek... maybe it was the mask of a carefree attitude he hide behind or the fierce loyalty to his friends. And if this boy had come all the way out here to say or do something, Derek was more than willing to hear him out.

Stiles wildly gestured to the house and the surrounding woods and concluded, “Coming here.”

“Oh,” Derek remarked with a frown. “I thought you meant the whole having a crush on me, thing.”

Eyes taking on the classic deer-caught-in-the-headlights look, Stiles hissed through clenched teeth, “How do you know about that?” As soon as the words left his mouth, Stiles immediately backtracked and managed to stutter, “I mean... what are you talking about?”

“I saw the notebooks, Stiles. I’m not an idiot.” Derek teased and laughed, especially as a faint blush rose across the bridge of Stiles’s nose.

Peering at Derek through partially closed eyelids, Stiles asked, “Does everybody know about those damn notebooks?”

“Pretty much. You’ve never been great at keeping a secret.”

“I’ll have you know,” Stiles scoffed, “I never told Danny about--” he continued before trailing off, realizing that he was about to give away a secret which involved something Jackson may or may not have done Danny’s locker when they were middle school. Though in Stiles’s defense, it wasn’t a secret that Jackson had told him, it was a secret that Stiles had accidently walked in during.

“About...?” Derek said then grinned, “I rest my case.”

“Shut up,” Stiles grumbled and hunched his shoulders as he looked around the yard and charred skeleton on the Hale house.

It was tragic how much damage one fire could do? In a matter of minutes, Laura and Derek had lost everything and everyone they had loved. Their uncle Peter might have survived the fire; but he was never the same again... severe PTSD the doctors had said; he’d be lucky if he ever regained the ability to talk again.

“I know it looks kinda bad, but the kitchen is functional,” Derek told him when he realized that Stiles had stopped looking at him, and had turned his wandering attention to what was left of his childhood home. “Come in for coffee?”

“Sure,” Stiles stammered as the blush across his nose deepened. “And how about a ride home later?”

“How are you so sure I won’t make you walk home?” Derek countered and nudged Stiles in the direction on the stairs, knowing that he would go without much protest.

“Just cause...” Stiles said with a smile as he wrapped his hand around Derek’s, earning a small squeeze before Derek pulled him up the stairs and into the house.


End file.
